Mark found them perched on the edge of the rooftop, their arms wrapped tightly around their knees as they gazed out over the city. Neon lights flickered against the glass windows of distant skyscrapers, casting shifting patterns across their face. The wind tugged at their hair, but they remained still, lost in thought.

Mark hesitated before stepping forward, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, voice quieter than he intended.

They didn’t look at him. Instead, they exhaled slowly, their breath visible in the cool night air.

Mark sighed and lowered himself onto the ledge beside them, letting his legs dangle over the side. “When I got my powers, I thought it meant I could do good. Be like Dad.”

A sharp, bitter laugh escaped them. “Yeah. Be like Dad.”

Mark flinched at the venom in their tone. He knew that sting all too well. The weight of expectation. The fear of becoming something you swore you wouldn’t.

“You’re not him,” Mark said, turning to face them fully. “You never will be.”

For the first time, they looked at him, something unreadable flickering in their eyes. But they didn’t argue.